What an eye-opener!
We’ve all been told to never talk to strangers and we probably all said the exact same thing to our kids. Easy to remember, right? Or maybe not so much. Especially when we also teach the kids not to be rude. So what is it now? Which one to consider? Should they be polite and answer questions as long as the person asking seems nice and polite and actually not dangerous? Or should they follow the don’t talk to stranger rule?
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Challenge for day 11 for Writing 101: Size Matters (in sentences). Today’s Prompt: Where did you live when you were 12 years old? Today’s twist: pay attention to your sentence lengths and use short, medium, and long sentences as you compose your response about the home you lived in when you were twelve.
The Sonora desert. Usually it isn’t considered a beautiful place. At 12, I did not think about Tucson, Arizona, being beautiful, but I grew to love it, including heat, tarantulas, scorpions, and all the other things that inhabited the desert. We had moved there because of Mama’s asthma. We had lived in Michigan. The doctor said, “You need to move to a dry climate if you want to live.” So my family of six moved. And Mama grew well there.
In Tucson, we enjoyed 350 sunny days a year. We were surrounded by five different mountain ranges: Tucson, Santa Catalina, Rincon, Santa Rita and Tortolita. They ranged in heights from over 4,000 feet to over 9,000 feet high. It was amazing to look outside and see these majestic mountains towering all around.
Our family spent more than one afternoon having lunch in the foothills, surrounded by the cacti that reminded us of sentinels, guarding the road and mountain,
Or stopping on the drive up one of the mountains in the chain to view the city far below.
How I missed the desert and those lovely mountains when I moved. I’m not glad my mother was sick. I am glad her illness took us to Tucson, Arizona.
The Writing 101 challenge for Day Seven: Give and Take
Today’s prompt: Write a post based on the contrast between two things — whether people, objects, emotions, places, or something else. Today’s twist: write your post in the form of a dialogue.
CAT AND DOG
“What is a dog doing are?” Cat laid his ears back as he stood in the kitchen door.
From the next room, Dog tipped his head and took a step toward Cat. “My family left me here—“
“What? In my house?” growled Cat.
“What’s wrong? I’ve been here before. And I’ll only be here a couple days.” Dog took a step forward.
The hair on Cat’s back stood up. “Hold it, big fella. Stay away from me.”
“Hey, I just want to be friends,” Dog said.
“Me and you? Are you kidding? You better just out of my way. My claws are sharp and I can bite.”
“Well, if that’s the way you want it,” Dog said. He turned and went to lay down by Don’s chair. “Dumb cat. Thinks he could beat me up, does he?”
Cat watched Dog lay down. Then with watchful eyes, he made his way to Gayle’s chair on the other side of Don’s chair. He jumped up beside Gayle. For a few minutes he stood on the arm of the chair.
“Well, Miss Gayle,” he meowed. “What’s the idea of the dog?”
Gayle reached up and scratched Cat’s head between his ears and said in a soft voice, “Come on, Kittie, lay down. Don’t worry about Dog.”
“Humans sure are dumb,” Cat said. “They don’t understand a word I say. I’ve told her not to call me ‘Kittie.'” With a sigh, Cat lay down on the arm of the chair as Gayle went back to her needlepoint. “I guess I will just have to keep that Dog in line myself!”
Here is the story finish for the Blog Event, Finish It #9. Thanks, Author S B Mazing for another chance to write a story from your prompt. It has been a great experience and great fun.
The prompt: Sitting on the rock, his feet dangling in the water. It was the place he could relax, where all the pressure was lifted off his shoulders. He wished he could share it with her though. While his eyes scanned the ocean, he wondered where she would be right now, what she was doing and whom she was with. To be continued:
How often he had come here since she had left him. She told him she wanted a divorce. It hit him hard. He thought they had overcome the problems and come to a new understanding and they could rebuild and be happy.
“I’m sorry, Josh. I . . . just don’t love you anymore,” she confessed. “I thought it might work between us, but it hasn’t.” Within a few hours, she was completely out of his life.
He had prayed. It hadn’t seemed to work. She didn’t come back. Sometimes he thought he saw her in a crowd but it wasn’t her. Thoughts ran through his mind as he gazed into the water lapping at his feet. We used to share these moments of relaxation. But no more. Who’s she with? Who’s taking care of her?
His pastor told him he needed to forgive. That didn’t mean what happened didn’t count. It meant he set himself free from anger and bitterness, the very thing that would destroy him. His anger couldn’t hurt her. But to forgive her is too hard, he argued with himself.
As stood up to go, a vivid memory flashed before him. He had been a difficult teen. He had stolen money from his single mother. He remembered how disrespectful he had been to her when she was trying so hard to support them. Then, something involved him in church and his life changed, inside and out. The hardest thing he ever did was to go to mother and ask her to forgive him—advice from his pastor. His mother had folded her arms around him, her tears falling on his neck. “Of course, my boy. Of course.”
He looked up to the sky. “Lord, it is too hard in myself, but you can help me.” Gritting his teeth with determination he continued, “I forgive her.” With that, he dried tears that had filled his eyes. A new light seemed to flow around him. He knew the sadness wouldn’t dissolve immediately; he would have to repeat the words when he the hurting seemed unbearble. But with the words had come a new freedom. He turned toward his car, then turned back once more. “Dear Lord, I let go of her. Take care of her.”
The next challenge for Writing 101, Day 5: Be Brief. Today’s Prompt: You stumble upon a random letter on the path.You read it. It affects you deeply, and you wish it could be returned to the person to which it’s addressed. Write a story about this encounter.
Today’s twist: Approach this post in as few words as possible.
Dearest One,
I’m so sorry for what happened. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. If I don’t hear from you, I will know it was too hard.
I still love you.
ASSIGNMENT FROM WRITING 101: SERIALLY LOST
Today’s Prompt: Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more. Today’s Twist: Make today’s post the first in a three-post series.
Mr. Goatley came to us from friends of my mother-in-law. They lived not too far from a large grocery store, surrounded by newer houses, yet their property was situated in such a way that it looked like country. Mr. Goatley was a large five-year-old wether goat. He lived on their weeds and grass, with some hay and oats thrown in. To keep him from going “to town,” they kept him on a chain attached to a collar.
But Mr. Goatley was very resourceful. A few times he managed to escape his collar and visited the grocery store. Well, the manager wasn’t very happy with the situation and finally Mr. Goatley’s family decided they had to give him up. We lived on five acres with lots of trees and brush. When spring came, the brush would grow tall and was hard to keep under control. We welcomed Mr. Goatley. My husband built him a shed where he could spend the winter and eat hay and oats to his heart’s content.
Our new “pet” loved the brush. When the winter weather cleared enough to leave him outside all the time, we led him to the brush near the house. His eyes would grow big and his tail would wag and he would hurry to eat. And eat he did. Until his sides bulged. Then he would lie down and digest, then get up and eat more! He was a wonderful brush clearer! I would have a bucket of water near him and check him a couple times during the day to be sure he had water and that he wasn’t hopeless tangled. There were times when he was under trees that I would have to untangle him so he could eat and drink. He would plant his feet firmly and refuse to move. I would talk to him, telling him he would be close to his water and more delicious weeds and then pull the chain. He finally would give in and follow me.
Our girls loved Mr. Goatley. They would put their hands on his head and push or let him push them from behind . He loved the game. My younger daughter had to be really careful because she was smaller; if she wasn’t, he would swing his head and hit her and knock her over. He did that once to me while I was giving him oats and while I didn’t go over, I felt as if he knocked my head off my shoulders!
One day when my girls and I had gone shopping. We came back a couple hours later to find our goat was loose, and had gone to the clothesline where there were a few pieces of clothing hanging on it. The girls thought it was hilarious that a strap of one of my bras was wrapped around his neck. They wanted me to take a picture, but I was embarrassed. I should have taken the picture; later I realized the incident was as funny as the girls thought it was. I was very careful to check his collar from then on to be sure he couldn’t escape again.
Mr. Goatley was a dear. How I missed him when he got sick and died a few years later. Our “yard” missed him, too.
Thanks you, Marie of Come Fly with Me for nominating me for the Versatile Bloggers Award. I enjoyed your blog; I hope others will take a look.
The rules are:
1) Thank the person who nominated you and link back to their site.
2) Tell 7 things about yourself.
3) Nominate 15 bloggers
4) Link to their sites and let them know of the nomination.
Seven things about me:
1) Until I went to high school, I attended a different school every year.
2) In the 1950’s, my sister and I earned a box camera. It only had one hole in the front and a shutter release. It used film and was black and white. So much different from anything we have now!
2) I love reading the Bible. I spent two years in a Christian Bible School in its study. I wanted to learn more about it since I had Jesus Christ as my Savior.
3) I love dogs and cats. My toy poodle lived to be 14 years old; my Burmese kittie lived to be 18. At one point, my husband and I had 2 dogs, 2 cats, and a newborn. Though this is not too much for some, it was a bit overwhelming for me to care for a newborn and 4 animals! But we still had 3 animals when my younger daughter was born!
4) My younger daughter was born at home. It was a great birth experience. (She is the only person I know that was born and lived in the same house in two cities. We moved our mobile home to our property when she was five.)
5) I love looking out my bedroom window and watching the birds.
6) I have no sense of direction, hence I get lost easily.
7) I would rather sit and read or type than exercise, but I am doing it so my arthritis won’t get the better of me!
The bloggers I am going to nominate are:
1) Our Poetry Corner
2) another cup of coffee
3) Making It Write
4) themissiontomars
5) A Stitch to Scratch
6) TheHelioPaths
7) ICHASYAHFA
8) The Luckiest
9) Ever Scarlet
10) Faith Unlocked
11) The Ninth Life
12) Pure Glory
13) Looking4God Today
14) iamthemilk
15) In Search of His Face
I was looking through some pictures when I came upon ones of the trip my mother-in-law took my daughters and me on a long trip to see her relatives several years ago. It was fun and uneventful except for the wild animal park.
On the way, we stopped at the wild animal park. My mother-in-law was afraid to go into it; she didn’t want any wild animals climbing on the car or poking their heads in the window. But she couldn’t resist the pleas of her five and eight year old granddaughters. We warned them to keep all body parts in the car and windows closed. We drove through the gates and looked forward to seeing some animals.
It didn’t take long. We could see some animals in the distance and some giraffes close by. Suddenly one giraffe loped up to the car. We were enjoying watching it when I heard my five year old calling to it. I looked around and saw her hanging out the window, reaching for it. I screamed at her and tried to grab her, but before I could, the giraffe grabbed her by her arm and pulled her out of the car, than lay down on the ground. I finally gathered my senses and jumped out of the car, thinking maybe I could help her, only to find she had climbed on its back. Wow, I thought, I have never seen an adult giraffe lay down.
“Mom!” I shouted to my mother-in-law, “go get a ranger!”
I no sooner got the words out of my mouth, when a ranger drove up. “Get back in the car!” he said softly. “Let me handle this. What’s your daughter’s name?”
“Heather,” I responded.
I sat back in the car and listened as the ranger talked to my daughter in a soft voice from the window of his car. “Heather, get off the giraffe’s back and climb back in your car.”
Heather put her arms around the giraffe’s neck. “But he is so nice,” she replied. “I love giraffes.”
“Heather,” the ranger continued, “you might hurt his back. He isn’t used to heavy loads.”
My five year old sighed. “Okay,” she agreed. She climbed off its back and turned to the car. The giraffe turned its head and gently touched her arm with his mouth. I swear, it looked just like it was kissing her. She in turn, put a kiss on its cheek and climbed back into the car.
“Heather, if you won’t stay in the car, you will have to leave the park,” the ranger warned. Then he looked at me. “Madam, this is very serious. Can you keep her in the car?”
I turned and looked at Heather. “Young lady, can you obey what the ranger said? If not, we will have to leave the park.”
Heather nodded. “Yes, mommy,” she promised.
“I will never do this again,” my mother-in-law muttered, gritting her teeth.
I watched the giraffe as we drove off. It, in turn, was watching us. It almost looked sad.
The ranger followed us all the way to the end of the drive. I began to think he might follow us home. Heather was very good the rest of the way, but I could hear the two girls in the backseat discussing how it was to be held and kissed by a giraffe.
Now that you have this picture in mind, I want to tell you the only part that was true was that my mother-in-law did take us on a trip and we did go to a wild animal park, though we did not go in because she was afraid of what the animals might do. This was inspired by the April Fool prompt by the Daily Post. Join the prompt and see if you can come up with an April Fools story!
Inspirational! Reblogged to darlenescorner.wordpress.com.
When troubles come and disaster looms
When we are tossed like flotsam
on a stormy sea dragged
d
o
w
n
by whirlpools
of
worry
and
fear
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Thank you Passion through Poetry for the invitation to the Poetry Challenge, Love in ten sentences. The poem has ten lines of four words, each containing the word Love. I am to nominate ten people to take the challenge. Here is the poem.
Love in Ten Sentences
God loves all people
He gives us love
He sent His love
so we could love
“Love your neighbor
as you love yourself”
not with weak love
but love in truth
Love casts out fear
For Jesus is Love
The ten people I will nominate are:
Making it write
Memee’s Musings
fitlyspoken
Meredith’s Musings
Christian Poetry-by deborah ann
Send Sunshine
Me – Who am I
The Ninth Life
nutsrock
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